A/N: JK Rowling owns the setting and characters. This story is based on the Howard Hawks' movie His Girl Friday. Many thanks to everyone who lets me know you're still reading!
*
"Deranged?" said Kevin Whitby. "Haha! Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Oh, I dunno," said Ginny, "could it be that you invented a curse to implode owls? Or maybe it's just the way you roll your eyes crazily while you point your wand at us?"
"I'm not crazy! I just have a lot of things going on right now!"
"I'll say," said Ginny, "and you do realise that in about five seconds, a lot of really angry Aurors are going to storm in here and curse you?"
"Not if I fix this door!" cried Whitby, turning around and pointing at the door. Ginny grabbed for her wand, and started to shout a Stupefying Spell, when... she realised she didn't have her wand.
"Reparo!" cried Whitby, and the door repaired itself.
Malfoy had her damned wand! Stupid, stupid, stupid! To think they both got through the War alive, it was a damned miracle, the first bloody rule was never to let go of your wand. It was the only bloody rule, really!
She had grown soft, after the War, and daft in the head from Malfoy's thrice-damned kisses.
Whitby turned back to them.
"Oh, and before I forget, I want your wands! Hand 'em over!"
Mrs. Longbottom sighed and handed hers over. Then she sat down in a corner (the corner farthest away from the owls, Ginny noted).
"I don't have mine on me right now," she told Whitby.
"Oh, okay."
"So, what are you going to do now?"
"Now?"
"Yeah, you aren't going to sit here with me and Grandmother Longbottom all day, are you? Aren't you on the run, or something?"
"Yes I am! I'm on the run!"
"So... How did you manage to make a bomb? And how come you're not hurt; the explosion was big enough to take out the lights on this level!"
"Oh, it wasn't that big... I think I know why- What are you doing?"
"Writing this down. I'm a reporter, remember? I came by your cell a while ago, and asked you questions?"
"Oh, yes. I thought maybe that was just a cover. Some women like men who are in prison, you know. They write them letters and..." he mumbled something.
"What?"
"He was trying to pronounce 'conjugal visits'," said Mrs. Longbottom, "and if you think you've got a chance with her, young man, you are even more stupid than you look! And you do look like a very stupid young man!"
"I don't look stupid!" cried Whitby, and threw the owls a really crazy look.
"Relax, both of you!" said Ginny sharply. "We don't want any unfortunate owl accidents, do we, Grandmother Longbottom?"
"I-"
"No, don't answer that, that was a rhetorical question. Listen, Kevin, have you any idea where you are going? It's not like you can jump out of the window!"
"Stupid underground buildings! Who ever came up with the idea for that one, I wonder?"
"Well, it helps when we're being bombed, you know. The house doesn't collapse, for one."
"For a reporter, you sure know a lot about building codes, Ginny Weasley. And anyway, it wasn't really a bomb. My cell was next to the building's power supply, that's why it got dark for a bit."
"Well, you would know!"
"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But no, this is just stuff I've figured out on my own. I didn't build a bomb out of spare parts of rats and last night's supper!"
"No, but I bet you tried," muttered Mrs. Longbottom.
"If you didn't blow yourself out of there, who did?" said Ginny, furiously taking notes with the only quill she could find - an ordinary one.
"How should I know? Maybe it was one of my female admirers! Maybe it was an owl! For all I know, Harry Effing Potter did it!"
Ginny blinked. Now there was a theory. Harry and Hermione wanted Whitby out of jail, to be sure. But surely they wouldn't... She decided not to share this bit of speculation with Whitby and Mrs. Longbottom.
"Anyway, when life hands you lemons, don't you bake a pie with them?"
"...What?"
"Well, I wasn't going to stick around and ask questions, was I? I ran as fast as I could as soon as I noticed the wall was blasted away."
"I see we have a strategical genius with us today."
"Mrs. Longbottom, that's not helping! Kevin, don't point the wand at her!"
Whitby pointed it at Ginny instead, which really wasn't much better.
"I thought we were friends. After all, you loved me at Hogwarts. You were heartbroken when I dumped you, I know, but it would never have worked, Ginny."
"What? I dumped you! And we weren't an item - it was one date!"
"Let's not quibble over details," said Whitby magnanimously.
"Listen, you weird little wizard..."
"Don't you look at me like that!" The wand shook in his hand. "I have yet to try my owl-implosion curse on a human, but you can be the first to try it out!"
That was when Ginny got tired of waiting for Malfoy or Neville or Harry or a random Auror or some other useless man who was never around when you really needed some male strength or at least a wand, and threw her quill down.
"That's it! I don't believe for a minute that you killed Dirk Cresswell, and if you didn't kill him, you're not a killer - except maybe an owl-killer, but I'm not Hermione - hence, you won't kill me if I... take your wand!"
Draco Malfoy had trained Ginny Weasley in hand-to-hand combat during the War. She wondered how he'd judge her head-on tackling of Whitby, which mostly consisted of her throwing herself right at him and grabbing for the wand. Draco would probably not give her points for style - but it worked. She stepped back and pointed the wand at Whitby.
"I think we just rewrote the book," said Ginny, feeling like something like that ought to be said at a time like this.
"Oh, no need to get all dramatic," said Whitby, "I lied about the owl-implosion curse, anyway."
"Now you tell me?" said Ginny. She broke the wand in two and threw it into a fireplace. "That's evidence we don't need. But now what do we do?"
"Hide me?"
"I think we should call the Aurors!" said Mrs. Longbottom. Ginny had almost forgotten about her.
"I think not. If it wasn't Kevin who let himself out, maybe it wasn't so much a 'female admirer or an owl' who set off that bomb."
"What are you saying?" said Whitby. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"What do you think I'm saying?"
"That I have male admirers too?"
"Yes, Kevin, that's exactly what I'm saying. You've been looking at the wrong side of the fence all this time. What a good thing that I came along to set you right. You really owe me one."
"...Yes?"
"Or, I dunno, maybe I'm thinking that it wasn't a friend who let you out, maybe, I dunno, I'm just speculating, but maybe whoever let you out wanted you to run away in a really spectacular way so whoever caught you could kill you on the spot and no questions would be asked! But no, your theory makes so much more sense!"
"I think Ginevra feels a bit under-appreciated," said Mrs. Longbottom to the world at large.
"How could I possibly, what with all the continued support from you, Grandmother Longbottom?"
"Sarcasm will get you anywhere, as long as you also pay the Galleons for the tickets."
"Hello?" said Whitby. "I'm still here? Chased by people who want me dead?"
"So I guess you decided my theory was better than yours."
"All I'm saying is that it has got merits! It could still be a female admirer! But until we make sure it is, I think you're obliged to help me!"
"I am?"
"You want your article, don't you? An exclusive?"
"Well, yes."
"Well, then, all you have to do is make sure that no one comes barging in here and kills me."
"Oh, that's all, is it?"
Whitby opened his mouth but didn't have time to speak before there was a knock on the door. Ginny swore.
"You have to hide! Here, squeeze into the roll-top desk! Quickly!"
Whitby climbed in and Ginny closed the desk. She glared at Mrs. Longbottom.
"He's a dead man if you tell anyone!"
"Oh, I won't say a word. Except to say that you're both crazy."
The knock came again, and Ginny went to open the door. Hermione Granger entered, looking very calm and collected, thought Ginny, who was a mess from crawling under desks and grappling with various men.
"'Ullo, 'ullo, I'm just making sure no one's hurt. Had a bit of an accident with the lights, didn't we? Well, no worries, it's all been taken care of now. Mrs. Longbottom," and Hermione gave the old lady a friendly wave while she glanced around the room.
"Hermione-"
"Sorry Ginny, can't stay. Seeing a man about an owl, and all that. Bye bye!"
She closed the door behind her. Ginny could have sworn she hadn't looked harder at the roll-top desk than at anything else in the room, but she was left feeling like she had just been handled - by Hermione, and therefore by Harry. And it was a most annoying feeling!
*
"Deranged?" said Kevin Whitby. "Haha! Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Oh, I dunno," said Ginny, "could it be that you invented a curse to implode owls? Or maybe it's just the way you roll your eyes crazily while you point your wand at us?"
"I'm not crazy! I just have a lot of things going on right now!"
"I'll say," said Ginny, "and you do realise that in about five seconds, a lot of really angry Aurors are going to storm in here and curse you?"
"Not if I fix this door!" cried Whitby, turning around and pointing at the door. Ginny grabbed for her wand, and started to shout a Stupefying Spell, when... she realised she didn't have her wand.
"Reparo!" cried Whitby, and the door repaired itself.
Malfoy had her damned wand! Stupid, stupid, stupid! To think they both got through the War alive, it was a damned miracle, the first bloody rule was never to let go of your wand. It was the only bloody rule, really!
She had grown soft, after the War, and daft in the head from Malfoy's thrice-damned kisses.
Whitby turned back to them.
"Oh, and before I forget, I want your wands! Hand 'em over!"
Mrs. Longbottom sighed and handed hers over. Then she sat down in a corner (the corner farthest away from the owls, Ginny noted).
"I don't have mine on me right now," she told Whitby.
"Oh, okay."
"So, what are you going to do now?"
"Now?"
"Yeah, you aren't going to sit here with me and Grandmother Longbottom all day, are you? Aren't you on the run, or something?"
"Yes I am! I'm on the run!"
"So... How did you manage to make a bomb? And how come you're not hurt; the explosion was big enough to take out the lights on this level!"
"Oh, it wasn't that big... I think I know why- What are you doing?"
"Writing this down. I'm a reporter, remember? I came by your cell a while ago, and asked you questions?"
"Oh, yes. I thought maybe that was just a cover. Some women like men who are in prison, you know. They write them letters and..." he mumbled something.
"What?"
"He was trying to pronounce 'conjugal visits'," said Mrs. Longbottom, "and if you think you've got a chance with her, young man, you are even more stupid than you look! And you do look like a very stupid young man!"
"I don't look stupid!" cried Whitby, and threw the owls a really crazy look.
"Relax, both of you!" said Ginny sharply. "We don't want any unfortunate owl accidents, do we, Grandmother Longbottom?"
"I-"
"No, don't answer that, that was a rhetorical question. Listen, Kevin, have you any idea where you are going? It's not like you can jump out of the window!"
"Stupid underground buildings! Who ever came up with the idea for that one, I wonder?"
"Well, it helps when we're being bombed, you know. The house doesn't collapse, for one."
"For a reporter, you sure know a lot about building codes, Ginny Weasley. And anyway, it wasn't really a bomb. My cell was next to the building's power supply, that's why it got dark for a bit."
"Well, you would know!"
"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But no, this is just stuff I've figured out on my own. I didn't build a bomb out of spare parts of rats and last night's supper!"
"No, but I bet you tried," muttered Mrs. Longbottom.
"If you didn't blow yourself out of there, who did?" said Ginny, furiously taking notes with the only quill she could find - an ordinary one.
"How should I know? Maybe it was one of my female admirers! Maybe it was an owl! For all I know, Harry Effing Potter did it!"
Ginny blinked. Now there was a theory. Harry and Hermione wanted Whitby out of jail, to be sure. But surely they wouldn't... She decided not to share this bit of speculation with Whitby and Mrs. Longbottom.
"Anyway, when life hands you lemons, don't you bake a pie with them?"
"...What?"
"Well, I wasn't going to stick around and ask questions, was I? I ran as fast as I could as soon as I noticed the wall was blasted away."
"I see we have a strategical genius with us today."
"Mrs. Longbottom, that's not helping! Kevin, don't point the wand at her!"
Whitby pointed it at Ginny instead, which really wasn't much better.
"I thought we were friends. After all, you loved me at Hogwarts. You were heartbroken when I dumped you, I know, but it would never have worked, Ginny."
"What? I dumped you! And we weren't an item - it was one date!"
"Let's not quibble over details," said Whitby magnanimously.
"Listen, you weird little wizard..."
"Don't you look at me like that!" The wand shook in his hand. "I have yet to try my owl-implosion curse on a human, but you can be the first to try it out!"
That was when Ginny got tired of waiting for Malfoy or Neville or Harry or a random Auror or some other useless man who was never around when you really needed some male strength or at least a wand, and threw her quill down.
"That's it! I don't believe for a minute that you killed Dirk Cresswell, and if you didn't kill him, you're not a killer - except maybe an owl-killer, but I'm not Hermione - hence, you won't kill me if I... take your wand!"
Draco Malfoy had trained Ginny Weasley in hand-to-hand combat during the War. She wondered how he'd judge her head-on tackling of Whitby, which mostly consisted of her throwing herself right at him and grabbing for the wand. Draco would probably not give her points for style - but it worked. She stepped back and pointed the wand at Whitby.
"I think we just rewrote the book," said Ginny, feeling like something like that ought to be said at a time like this.
"Oh, no need to get all dramatic," said Whitby, "I lied about the owl-implosion curse, anyway."
"Now you tell me?" said Ginny. She broke the wand in two and threw it into a fireplace. "That's evidence we don't need. But now what do we do?"
"Hide me?"
"I think we should call the Aurors!" said Mrs. Longbottom. Ginny had almost forgotten about her.
"I think not. If it wasn't Kevin who let himself out, maybe it wasn't so much a 'female admirer or an owl' who set off that bomb."
"What are you saying?" said Whitby. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"What do you think I'm saying?"
"That I have male admirers too?"
"Yes, Kevin, that's exactly what I'm saying. You've been looking at the wrong side of the fence all this time. What a good thing that I came along to set you right. You really owe me one."
"...Yes?"
"Or, I dunno, maybe I'm thinking that it wasn't a friend who let you out, maybe, I dunno, I'm just speculating, but maybe whoever let you out wanted you to run away in a really spectacular way so whoever caught you could kill you on the spot and no questions would be asked! But no, your theory makes so much more sense!"
"I think Ginevra feels a bit under-appreciated," said Mrs. Longbottom to the world at large.
"How could I possibly, what with all the continued support from you, Grandmother Longbottom?"
"Sarcasm will get you anywhere, as long as you also pay the Galleons for the tickets."
"Hello?" said Whitby. "I'm still here? Chased by people who want me dead?"
"So I guess you decided my theory was better than yours."
"All I'm saying is that it has got merits! It could still be a female admirer! But until we make sure it is, I think you're obliged to help me!"
"I am?"
"You want your article, don't you? An exclusive?"
"Well, yes."
"Well, then, all you have to do is make sure that no one comes barging in here and kills me."
"Oh, that's all, is it?"
Whitby opened his mouth but didn't have time to speak before there was a knock on the door. Ginny swore.
"You have to hide! Here, squeeze into the roll-top desk! Quickly!"
Whitby climbed in and Ginny closed the desk. She glared at Mrs. Longbottom.
"He's a dead man if you tell anyone!"
"Oh, I won't say a word. Except to say that you're both crazy."
The knock came again, and Ginny went to open the door. Hermione Granger entered, looking very calm and collected, thought Ginny, who was a mess from crawling under desks and grappling with various men.
"'Ullo, 'ullo, I'm just making sure no one's hurt. Had a bit of an accident with the lights, didn't we? Well, no worries, it's all been taken care of now. Mrs. Longbottom," and Hermione gave the old lady a friendly wave while she glanced around the room.
"Hermione-"
"Sorry Ginny, can't stay. Seeing a man about an owl, and all that. Bye bye!"
She closed the door behind her. Ginny could have sworn she hadn't looked harder at the roll-top desk than at anything else in the room, but she was left feeling like she had just been handled - by Hermione, and therefore by Harry. And it was a most annoying feeling!
To Be Continued.
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This story is a favorite of 20 members. Members who liked His Girl Weasley also liked 850 other stories.
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